Page 83 of Carry On

Was Lincoln interested in him? Was the feeling mutual? Had they dated? Hooked up?

Why the fuck did it bother me? Lincoln wasn’t mine.

He never will be,the voice said.

I knew that.

You’ll never be worthy of him,it continued.

I knew that too.

Alcohol wasn’t helping quiet the voice this time. Normally, a few drinks were enough to shut it up. To give me some peace and fucking quiet. But, no, tonight it was up and rearing no matter what I did.

The whole night felt normal, painfully so. Dinner and drinks with friends? When was the last time I’d done anything like that? I couldn’t remember. Maybe when I’d served, but even then, I couldn’t remember it. There was only one person I ever had any kind of camaraderie with, but never like this.

Trying to fit in with Lincoln and his friends only served to deepen the line between us. It was a stark reminder of how I didn’t fit with him. Sure, on the surface, I could hold my own. I could be charming. But eventually, the conversations had shifted, turning into things I couldn’t keep up with and didn’t know about. It was easy to nurse a few drinks and just listen.

And eventually, my desire to be present for Lincoln vanished. I wanted to crawl back to the invisible parts of the world where people didn’t give a fuck. Where I could exist, and I didn’t have to perform to hold my space.

Something else ebbed its way to the surface, some oddly painful understanding that this thing between us had a clock. I didn’t like trying to fit into his world, but I liked Lincoln. More than I would ever admit outloud. It wasn’t just how easy it was to use him to feel good. He was smart and full of compassion. Snarky and softly sweet. He challenged me and kept me on my toes. I didn’t deserve him, but that didn’t mean I didn’t like him.

Watching him with Sebastian and Milo reminded me that there was someone out there for him. Someone who understood his world and his life. Someone who belonged with him. I was a broken puzzle piece trying to jam myself into the corners of his life. I didn’t fit.

You’ll never fit, the voice chimed in.

Lincoln’s face broke into a soft smile as he caught me watching him, and my heart did a little flip in my chest. He said a few quick goodbyes to both men before coming to where I stood down the sidewalk away from them.

“Sorry about that,” he said. “I see Milo maybe a few times a year, and I always forget how much the kid talks.”

I fell in step alongside him, shoving my hands in my pockets to avoid touching him. The urge to hold his hand was ridiculously strong, but I buried it.

“Did I pass your test?” I asked instead to distract myself.

“It wasn’t a test,” Lincoln scoffed. We turned down a side street, and I welcomed the lack of traffic. The bar wasn’t far from his condo, so we’d decided to walk there. I liked it far better than sitting in a stuffy taxi or his fancy car.

“You took me out to meet your friends to prove to them that we’re a couple,” I pointed out. “That’s a test.”

“Well, when you put it that way.” He chuckled. “I think it’s fine. Sebastian is still… well, he’s Sebastian. He’ll always be a little bit suspicious. That’s just who he is.”

I didn’t like that at all.

“But I did okay, right?”

You sound pathetic,the voice commented.

I did. I knew that. I was so goddamn worried that I was going to blow up his life after all the things he’d done for me. There wasn’t a damn thing I could do to pay him back for what he was doing for me, even if he said I didn’t need to. The least I could do was protect what he’d built for himself.

“You did fine,” Lincoln replied. His shoulder bumped into mine slightly. “Don’t worry so much, Lucky.”

Oh, but all I did was worry. Still, I forced a smile to ease the concern in his expression.

After a quick goodnight, I left Lincoln in the living room to sit outside on the balcony with my guitar. I shut the door in hopes that he wouldn’t follow. While I liked my time with Lincoln, I needed space from him—needed the room to breathe. To think.

The night left my mind reeling uncomfortably, focusing on things I hadn’t thought about in a while. Even strumming on my guitar wasn’t enough to calm the thoughts in my head.

And all of it led me to make the phone call I dreaded making. Obsessed over. It was one I tried to make every so often, and one I worried would go wrong every time.

“Hello?” The sound of Peter’s voice had me faltering. I struggled to come up with what to say. “Well… I’m here, but if you aren’t going to say anything to me, you could just call back, and I’ll let it go to voicemail instead.”